On Paper and In Person
by quillandink934
Summary: After breaking up with Ron, Hermione begins an exciting & fascinating correspondence with an unknown admirer. However, she soon finds her attentions straying to another man - Draco Malfoy, who has unexpectedly fallen for her & desperately tries to win her over - and realizes she must choose between her seemingly perfect mystery man and the one she's falling for in real life...
1. Heartbreak

**On Paper and In Person**

_This fanfic takes place one year after the Dark War. Since the previous year at Hogwarts had accomplished little to no actual education, due to the Death Eaters' control of the Wizarding school, students have been required to retake that year of classes. However, many of the young witches and wizards accepted this willingly, eager to cling to any stability after the chaos of the war shattered so much of their lives. That included the Trio, as well as some other unexpected faces. Our story begins during the second month of this new school year._

**Chapter One: Heartbreak**

Hermione slapped him with all the strength she could muster, and ran. She should have hexed him, she realized viciously, but at the time she had simply wanted to inflict upon him as much pain as possible, and seeing as her wand was not at the ready the stinging blow would have to suffice. That bastard. How could he do this to her? She hurried down the hallway, stifling a sob, and turned into the first empty classroom she could find. Then she let the tears roll freely down her face, sitting on a table and hugging her knees to her chest. Her heartbreak was mixed grief, rage, and betrayal.

She hoped he wouldn't follow her. In fact, she never wanted to see his face again, unless it was on the receiving end of a jinx. Closing her eyes, she couldn't help flashing back to their first kiss, in the middle of the greatest and most terrible Wizarding battle of all time. Their relationship had seemed so promising then. He had kissed her with a consuming passion, tempered by the gentlest true love. He had murmured in her ear that he had loved her all along, and would love her forever. And yet it was a lie. She transfigured a desk into a pillow and proceeded to punch the stuffing out of it. The feathers flew all over the tidy classroom, but she didn't care; she was crying her heart out all over again.

Less than a year after she gave him her heart, he had broken it. Two weeks ago she had glimpsed them together in the hidden stairwell. Panicking, she had wiped the incident from her mind – it couldn't have been anything; he loved **her**. And yet as she had climbed through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room this evening, there he was, snogging her without the slightest remorse. Hearing the loud _thump_ as her textbooks fell from her arms to the ground, Ron had disengaged himself from Lavender's mouth abruptly.

"Herm'!" he said, nervously licking his lips. "I, er, I thought you were studying in the library!"

The nerve of him. For a moment all she could do was glare, trying to control the emotions which threatened to overwhelm her. Recovering from her momentary loss for words, she replied with ice in her voice, "I was. Then I decided it would be nice to study up here tonight, to spend some time with you. Forgive me, I wasn't aware you had other plans." He gaped for a few seconds, trying to formulate some dimwitted excuse, but she didn't want apologies. She wanted him to hurt as badly as she did. And so in a sudden outburst she had smacked him with all her strength, and run.

She stopped rocking back and forth and sniffled a little. She tried to resign herself to the fact that she would never be with him again. She thought that she was enough for Ron, that his love was something special he reserved for her and her alone. But barely a month back at Hogwarts and he had hooked up with an old girlfriend. She sighed pitifully, not even caring that the front of her robes were soaked with tears.

Then she heard shouts and raucous laughter in the hallway. Annoyed, she put a charm on the door to silence the noise. How could anyone be happy when she was so upset? As soon as she turned back around, however, the offensive group had burst through the doorway into her classroom.

Draco Malfoy and several of his gang had just finished pulling off an elaborate prank on Mrs. Norris involving excessive amounts of cat nip, and had dashed off before Filch could arrive. Their laughter continued for a brief second until they realized the room was already occupied. They filed out, quieting only a little, all except one.

"Hey Granger, what's the matter? None of your friends care to put up with your ugly mug?" Malfoy sneered, recognizing her from behind.

"Get the hell out of here, Malfoy, before I curse your face off," she spat fiercely, spinning around to face him with her wand pointed at his chest, her tear-streaked face shining. Her emotions were already strained to their limit and she was _this close_ to releasing all that frustration.

"Whoa there, Granger. Easy. It was a joke. I'm sorry," he stammered, backing away. Despite the fact that he was being threatened, he sincerely meant his apology. He may have hated the know-it-all's Mudblood guts, but he wouldn't have insulted her if he had known she was already crying. His pure-blood upbringing did bestow him with _some_ decency.

He sheepishly turned to leave, glancing back at her over his shoulder. She sat back down and was hiding her face in her hands, trying not to let her tears show. Her slender frame shuddered as she tried to take a deep breath. Unable to bear the guilt, he walked over to her and awkwardly patted her shoulder. He felt bad for insulting her, and seeing her continue to cry was making him feel uneasy. "I'm sorry," he repeated. When she didn't look up, he hesitantly added, "Are you ok?"

Hermione closed her eyes. "No," she stated plainly, "but I want to be alone, thanks." She couldn't process anything else, so much had happened tonight and she was overwhelmed. Confused but relieved at being dismissed, Draco left, closing the door behind him.

Thanks for reading! I've already finished writing a draft for this story, so updates should come quickly :). Reviews are appreciated! ~Quill


	2. Falling

**Chapter Two: Falling**

Draco Malfoy lay awake in his chamber, deep in the Slytherin dungeons. He could not sleep. For some unknown reason, he still regretted his encounter with the Granger girl. Was she still crying, he wondered? It shouldn't bother him as much as it did. She was just another lousy Gryffindor, and a Mudblood at that. Be that as it may, he couldn't stand the fact that he had verbally abused a girl already in tears. He did have some sense of honor – maybe less rigid than others', but still, the circumstances upset him. And yet, he thought, she had already been crying when he entered the room. It hadn't been his words that caused her so much pain.

And suddenly he was wondering, what had? And why? What could have happened that it reduced the Granger girl, so overly-confident and analytical, to tears? And then the answer was obvious: Weasel. Of course. Well, he mused, regaining some of his old smirk, it was a good thing if they had broken up - their bloodtraitor Mudblood babies might have damaged the Wizarding gene pool beyond repair.

Sufficiently distracted by his usual malicious thoughts, Draco drifted to sleep. And yet, his subconscious mind could not be led astray as easy as his wakeful thoughts…

_Laughing, he opened the door. Suddenly his friends had vanished, and it was just the two of them. She was crying into her arms and had not yet realized he was there. How had he not noticed how beautiful she looked when she was crying? …Beautiful? Yes, there could be no other word to describe the delicate heaving of her chest, the way the sad droplets hung to her long eyelashes, the moonlight on her golden curls… She had done something with her hair, something he had not particularly noticed, but now he realized she had tamed her usual mane into refined, lustrous cascades. Just as the thought crossed his mind to go and comfort her, she looked up._

"_Draco?" She tilted her head as though surprised to see him, but his arrival did not seem to be completely unexpected. And why had she used his first name? Approaching her, he realized it did not matter. All he wanted was for her tears to go away._

"_Hush, Hermione, don't cry," he murmured softly, cupping her jaw in his palm and brushing away a tear with his thumb. She smiled sadly at him, her eyes still shining but her breathing slowly steadying. He met those sparkling eyes and couldn't look away. "That Weasley scum doesn't deserve a gem as precious as you anyways." And with that, he lifted her face to meet his own._

Draco woke the next morning feeling well rested and at peace with the world. Then the dream came flooding back. "Shit," he cursed, remembering what had happened, and more disturbingly with whom. "Damn. Shit." He couldn't understand, and yet at the same time he understood all too well. "Why her? She's just a filthy Mudblood," he muttered darkly, trying to convince himself that he was not attracted to her in any way shape or form. No, he thought, none of this meant anything. All this was just because of how worked up he got last night, and how tired he was. Nothing else.

Shaking his head roughly, he got out of bed and showered quickly before dressing and running to breakfast in the Great Hall. He couldn't help but glance at the Gryffindor table; her eyes were slightly red and she sat away from Potter and Weasley. He ignored the leap of his stomach and sat down between Blaise and Pansy, but found he had no appetite.

All through double Potions that day, he waged a battle against himself. One part of him could not help but admire her skill, her confidence, her hands, so graceful and delicate, her slender waist, which rose up to a decently curvy bust… the other part of him slapped the former. This was Granger he couldn't stop thinking about. Granger. Mudblood. Gryffindor. Sworn enemy and annoying show-off.

"Dammit!" His cauldron was now spitting sparks, one of which had pelted his arm, leaving a small burn. The students were supposed to be concocting Veritaserum, and by now Draco's cauldron should have been emitting a pale blue vapor, not sparks. Snape glared at him disapprovingly as he quickly added in a few ingredients, hoping to settle the potion. It stopped spitting and instead developed a mud-like consistency, turning a violent fuchsia and bubbling sluggishly. At the end of the class he placed his flask amongst the other clear potions ashamedly, still trying to get the Granger girl out of his head. He hoped she hadn't seen his embarrassing failure.

The rest of the day was no better. He couldn't focus on anything, except perhaps the way the light reflected on her hair and the way she tapped her fingers when she was deep in thought. Once, feeling his gaze on the back of her head, she had turned around and met his eyes; she gave him a weird sort of half-smile, half-"what-the-hell, Malfoy" expression. He abruptly dropped his stare and pretended to be engrossed with the assigned reading, the faintest tinge of color rising to his cheeks.

By that evening, he could no longer deny it, even to himself. Somehow he had fallen for the Granger girl, and fallen hard.

I know Draco develops this crush insanely quickly and kind of out of nowhere, but I was too excited to get to the main premise of the story to drag this out ^.^. And we needed Draco like Hermione to get to the fun part, so here we have it. Please leave me a review, and I'll keep posting updates regularly, so follow or check back soon :).


	3. The Library

**Chapter Three: The Library**

Hermione virtually lived in the library after that night. She couldn't bear to be in the common room, where she had to be around Ron and Lavender. Even the sight of them caused her eyes to well up and gave her the strong urge to kick something, even if they weren't together at the time. Harry had tried to comfort her, but, well, he had Ginny, so he couldn't exactly empathize. He tried his best to be supportive, but Hermione didn't want to bring him down, and so she kept her sorrows to herself, mostly.

That's why she spent her time in the library. The books would listen, and better, they would talk over her, drowning out her complaints with a steady stream of words, words that filled her head leaving no spaces for anything else. She delved into them, craving the release from her problems she knew they could provide. While she was reading, it was as if everything else faded away, and nothing mattered except the next sentence on the page.

So she went to breakfast, attended classes, ate lunch, and went to the library. She attempted as much as possible to distract herself with books and work. That was another benefit of the library; she could get her homework and studying done with minimal distractions and everything she needed easily accessible. This was a good thing, as she was taking all N.E.W.T. level courses and the teachers were piling up the homework. It was all she could do to finish at a decent hour most nights.

Then, one night about a week from the breakup, she saw Ron in the library. Unable to bear the thought of being in his presence, and certain she would not be able to restrain herself from jinxing him if he so much as looked at her, she left, wandering around the castle for an hour until it was safe to return. That was when she realized how much work she had left to do. She had three essays and a rune translation due tomorrow, and had barely begun – this was not the day for her studying to be interrupted. Panicking, she got to work as quickly as possible. But she didn't stand a chance. She managed to complete two essays and half of the third, but she hadn't even begun her translation when her eyes slipped closed and her head fell onto her textbook.

The next morning, she woke with a jolt. Surprisingly, and rather unluckily, nobody had noticed her sleeping and woken her in the night. She had spent the entire night in the library, her face plastered to page 948 of _The_ _Theory of Charms_. She began to panic – she still had work to do and she was already late for class. Fortunately Flitwick wouldn't be too harsh on her for being tardy, except his was one of the assignments she had not yet completed! Horrified, she realized she would have to beg for an extension. She hastily gathered her materials into her bag, but something stopped her. There was a note stuck to page 947 of her makeshift pillow. Picking it up curiously, she read:

_You looked exhausted; I couldn't bring myself to wake you. Hopefully Flitwick won't pay too much attention to the last five inches of your essay; I tried to match your tone and handwriting as best I could. I've never translated Runes before, but I took the liberty of borrowing your dictionary and made an honest attempt. I hope it meets your standards._

There was no signature. Astounded, she pulled the Charms essay back out of her bag. It was finished! Forgetting that she was late to class, she stopped and read the last three paragraphs this stranger had added to her essay. She nodded appreciatively; the author had made profound points and mimicked her writing style quite well. Usually her integrity would not allow her to accept such a gift, but under the current circumstances she would allow this mystery person to help her out. She scanned through the Runes translation briefly; it was nearly flawless. Whoever this person was, they were nearly as clever as she was.

Could it have been a teacher? No, that wouldn't make sense. Lupin might have done something like that for her if he was still at Hogwarts, but none of the current professors would finish a student's homework for them, and certainly not as diligently. And the mystery person had never studied Runes before! It must have taken them all night to translate the three-page text. Unable to comprehend who would do such a thing for her, Hermione took out a pen and wrote on the back of the note:

_Thank you, thank you so much. You are my hero! The Runes translation was perfect. I'm impressed! You've really never done them before? And the rest of the essay was brilliant; I can honestly say I couldn't have done better myself. I appreciate this more than you can imagine._

…_If you'll forgive my curiosity, who are you?_

She thought for a minute about signing the note, but then realized the mystery person would have already known who she was. Wanting to make sure they received her message, she closed the book but kept the note poking out of the top corner and left it on the table. Remembering Charms class, she hurriedly grabbed the rest of her things and bolted from the library, still amazed by her good fortune.

- Now we're getting to the good part! How do you guys like it so far? Reviews are love :) ~Quill


	4. Exhaustion

**Chapter Four: Exhaustion**

Flitwick tapped his wand on Draco's desk, waking him with a start. The old professor did not chasten the student, merely shooting him a pointed glance as he continued walking amongst the desks giving the lecture on Imperturbable Charms. The Slytherin groaned and stretched, his eyelids still heavy. He felt like he had been hit over the head with something particularly heavy. _That's what you get for staying out all night…_ He really ought to be taking better care of himself.

He tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes and looked around the class. With a twist of his stomach, he realized that the face his subconscious had been searching for was not there. _What's keeping her?_ he wondered silently, before shaking his head forcefully and trying to pay attention. But Flitwick was merely droning on, and to Draco's fuzzy mind the professor's voice had already adopted a Binns-esque quality that was sending him back to sleep.

Suddenly the classroom door creaked open, and Draco looked up. _There she is_, he thought smiling to himself, trying to hide his relief.

"I'm so sorry, Professor!" the brunette exclaimed. "I was up late working on your essay last night and I guess I overslept." She looked up at him apologetically.

Flitwick nodded in response. "Lucky for you we're discussing Imperturbable Charms today, which you are probably already familiar with, my dear. Place your scroll with the others and have a seat."

Hermione did as instructed, a small smile barely visible on her lips as she turned in her essay, so faint that nobody would have noticed who wasn't watching her carefully. But of course, Draco was. His insides fluttered.

The Gryffindor quickly borrowed Harry's notes, reviewing them to see what she had missed, as Flitwick continued his lesson. Draco noticed that she completely ignored Ron, sitting on Harry's opposite side. _Good, she's getting over him_.

Draco jumped at a sharp prod in his side. "What?" he hissed at Blaise Zambini, who occupied the seat beside him and who had provided the sudden jolt back to reality.

The other boy sniggered and smirked at Draco contemptuously. "Really Malfoy," he whispered low enough that Flitwick couldn't hear, "I questioned your judgment when you went out with Pansy – she was never pretty enough for my taste – but a _Mudblood_? You disappoint me."

Draco felt the blood rising to his cheeks and forced it down with sheer willpower and pride. "What in the name of Merlin's pants are you going on about?" he shot back.

"Oh please. Don't try to pretend you weren't staring at her."

"Who?"

"Granger!"

"Why would I be staring at that arrogant excuse for a witch?"

Blaise sniggered again. "You tell me."

Malfoy flushed angrily, and embarrassedly. "I wasn't! You— " Malfoy cut his remark short, realizing he had spoken too loudly and Flitwick as well as half of the class were staring at him.

"Ten points from Slytherin," Flitwick reprimanded, "for that interruption, Mr. Malfoy."

The Mr. Malfoy in question shot Blaise a look of pure hatred and sunk lower in his seat, sulking for the rest of the class.

As the bell sounded and the class rushed to the doors, Draco slowly packed up his things, not fancying the glares that would be shot his way by the Slytherin crowd in the hallway for losing points. Unfortunately for him, Blaise decided to wait for him, no doubt eager to continue provoking him after they left class. And even more unfortunately, Hermione hung behind as well, planning to double check with Flitwick what she had missed. As he got up from his desk, his eyes met hers and he froze. Blaise smirked, snapping Draco back to his senses.

He wanted to make a witty comment, one that would shut Blaise up while sending Hermione some secret meaning that the intelligent witch could extract. But his brain was fried, and the first condition was more demanding.

"What do you think you're looking at?" he snapped at her, and swept out of the classroom. He hadn't wanted to say that. He regretted it the instant those words had left his lips. And yet they seemed to satisfy Blaise, who refrained from further comment as they descended to the Slytherin common room. Oh, the price of saving a reputation…

They entered the green-tinged dungeon, and Blaise promptly fell onto one of the luxurious couches. "That was by far the most boring lesson I've had all day."

"That was the only lesson you've had all day," Malfoy stated dryly. His brain was whirling. "Look, I'm feeling really worn out. I'm going to take a nap until Transfiguration, wake me up, okay?"

Relieved to be away from Blaise, and really everybody in the castle at that point, Malfoy flopped down onto his four-poster bed. He set his alarm before closing his eyes, not fully trusting that Blaise wouldn't just leave him asleep and let him miss class. Physically as well as emotionally exhausted, sleep took him as soon as his head hit the pillow.

- Sorry that update took awhile; it's been quite the busy week! Hope you all are enjoying the story so far, don't forget to follow to catch the future updates and review if you like it! You all have been so positive and encouraging with the feedback, thank you so much! ^.^ 3 Quill


	5. Mystery

**Chapter Five: Mystery**

After her classes were over, culminating with Ancient Runes, Hermione went to the Great Hall to meet up with Harry and Ginny for dinner. She ate quickly, not talking much. There was something she needed to do.

"Erm, Hermione? Are you okay?" asked Ginny, watching with surprise as Hermione wolfed down her meal.

"Yeah," Hermione replied between mouthfuls, "I just really need to get to the library."

Harry laughed, what a perfectly typical answer from the top-of-her-class witch. "See you in the common room later?" he questioned as she got up, already finished with her meal.

"Sure thing," Hermione shouted back over her shoulder, already halfway out of the hall.

She kept a quick pace, eager to get to the library. Once there, she made a beeline for the table she had occupied last night. The book was still there, with the note peeking out. Heart pounding with excitement, she opened it.

Nothing new. She sighed with disappointment. Maybe the mystery person had simply been doing a onetime act of kindness. She had thought it would be somebody who…cared for her. This revelation surprised her a bit; she hadn't realized what she had been hoping. And yet it was true. But there was still no reply.

Closing the book back the way it was, she walked dejectedly out of the library, bringing with her the books she would need to study. She could do her homework in the common room tonight.

Hermione woke bright and early the next morning. She had slept soundly, worn out from the previous night's limited shuteye. She headed down to breakfast.

As she walked to the Great Hall, however, her body suddenly decided to make a detour, leading her instead to the library. She realized unexpectedly that this was where she had intended to go the second she left the portrait hole. All night she had tossed and turned, wondering if she would ever hear from her homework helper again. Now she realized she had to check the note one last time before she could give up on it. Nearly running back to her table, she again saw the book there. Her hands shook as she opened it to the page with the note. _Please_, _please_ _let there be a reply_.

And this time there was.

_I am delighted to hear that my work met your satisfaction. I hold your praise in the highest esteem. To answer your question, I am a student in your year, an admirer, if you will. But naturally, you have already surmised this, clever as you are. I shall refrain from giving you my identity exactly; it will be more interesting for you to figure it out on your own. I know you relish a challenge._

Her heart leapt. An admirer, and one after her own heart as well. It was as if he could read her mind. She sat for a long while deciding what to write back…

_You flatter me. And indeed, I do enjoy a mystery. But any mystery is riddled with clues, is it not? So surely you could drop a hint or two…_

Her day passed in a blur, and she floated through it with a bubble of sunshine in her chest that lighted her from within. Night came, and she dreamt of chasing a shadowy figure through a dark forest, never able to catch him, until finally she grasped his arm… and woke.

Only put off for a moment from the interruption in her dream, she quickly got dressed and ran straight to the library. Before she even saw the book on the table she knew there would be another message inside. Opening it, she read:

_Logical reasoning, my dear. And I appreciated the pun – "riddled with clues"… you outdo yourself. But surely you can derive the clues you seek from the messages we have already exchanged? For example, you know I am a seventh year, that I have never joined you in a Runes class and that I am rather proficient in the technicalities of Charms. Obviously I am not a complete dunderhead, and clearly I am not close to you in person, or I would not have resorted to anonymous notes to catch your attention…_

She smiled a she read the message. She had carefully considered the pun, wondering if he would catch it; it had not escaped his notice. And his point about the clues was reasonable, as well… Why had she not thought of that already? She read and reread the messages he had left, trying to extract every possible meaning out of the limited words on the page. Finally she replied and closed the books, rushing off to Charms once again.

And so it went for the next couple of weeks. Every morning, Hermione would rush to the library to read her admirer's latest message and leave a response, and by the next morning he would have replied. She told him about her life, her friends, her worries, and he responded comfortingly, sharing his own reserved anecdotes. She was impressed by his intelligence – he often left witty remarks and they held profound intellectual discussions. Occasionally he would leave her more than a message: the incantation for a cute Charm, in one instance, which spouted multicolored bubbles from the tip of the wand; a particularly fascinating passage from _Transfiguration Today_ on the properties of objects transfigured from animals; and once even an original poem comparing the mind to an endless sea. Hermione delighted in these treasures, and kept them in a box by her bed, where she would reread them before going to sleep and dreaming of him. He knew exactly what could spark her interest, make her smile and laugh, cause her heart to lurch. And she responded wholeheartedly, engaging him logically, making clever jokes and every now and then launching an undercover attempt to find out who he was. He cleverly dodged each effort, and kept his identity unknown, making the whole idea of him even more enthralling than he already was.

Rapidly, he was stealing her heart. She still refused to speak to Ron, but this was now out of an attempt to preserve her dignity, no longer from hurt. The intellectual nature of the messages with her mystery man made her realize more and more what a fool she was for ever expecting anything from Ron. Though he was adventuresome and kindhearted, he never could have engaged her mentally in the way she desired. Her love for him quickly faded, transforming into a sort of sympathy for his lesser state of mind. Lavender was a good match for him in that respect, and Hermione surprised herself with how ready she was to accept their relationship. Indeed, the only thing standing in the way of a renewed friendship between her and Ron was his dishonesty towards her, which she refused to forgive.

And yet none of this bothered her, because she had her mystery man. She developed an image of him, one that reality could never match. In her mind's eye he was a dashing, gallant knight in shining armor, he was a Shakespearean character with a tongue sharper than his sword, he was a Renaissance man who exceeded his peers in every regard. And to think he was _her_ admirer!

Her friends noticed a radical change in Hermione's attitude. She had gone from being heartbroken to vibrant and cheerful in a matter of days. Harry figured she was just going through one of those incomprehensible mood swings girls experience, while Ginny worriedly considered the possibility that Hermione had resorted to regular Cheering Charms to get over her brother's disloyalty. However, both undoubtedly preferred her new, pleasant state, so the topic went unmentioned, and the source of her happiness remained a mystery.

- I really like how this chapter turned out :). Agree? Disagree? Review and let me know! :D ~Quill


	6. Smile

**Chapter Six: Smile**

Draco grinned faintly as Hermione walked into History of Magic. He had been doing that a lot more often than usual: smiling. It was rather unlike him. And yet she naturally elicited that sort of response from him; she made him happy. Blaise snorted but didn't say anything. Draco had given up pretending a few days ago and finally admitted his crush to his so-called-friend, on the terms that Draco would hex him into oblivion if he ever let slip a word. It was easier that way than having to deny that he was constantly staring at her, blushing when her name was mentioned and becoming clumsy when she was around.

He caught her eye, and she looked at him quizzically as he hesitantly smiled at her. She walked to her desk looking slightly concerned, but didn't mention anything to Potter, thankfully. What was wrong with him?! With any other girl he had liked, it was so simple. He would skillfully seduce her, boldly making the first move even when she expressed no interest, and with a little persuasion even his most difficult targets had been successfully wooed. And yet Hermione Granger was not any other girl. Somehow she intimidated him; she was the only girl at Hogwarts who he imagined would have the nerve to reject his advances. And so he approached the matter indirectly, nervous in a way he had never felt before. _Friends first_, he had planned. Before anything, he had to stop her from hating his guts.

And so he had begun smiling whenever their eyes met. She had acted completely weirded out at first, but slowly she had seemed to accept this strange occurrence and had begun smiling back, if still a little uneasily.

He had started going to the library more often, as well. He would sit a little ways away, working on homework or reading something that would make him appear intelligent. First of all he hoped that this would impress her, and secondly it allowed her to realize that his presence did not equate to immediate animosity anymore. She still remained reserved, however, not sparing him any more attention than was necessary and replying tersely whenever he attempted to strike up conversation.

One evening, after having received a particularly encouraging response from her the day before, he decided he would get a full conversation with her, if only to hear her voice. He sat in his usual armchair in the library, a few tables away from where she was struggling with their Charms essay. Having finished his own, Draco picked up a book from his table and walked over to hers.

"Granger?"

Hermione looked up and was surprised to see that it was Malfoy who had spoken her name. She examined his expression; it didn't seem as though he had any malicious intent. He was probably just trying to chat again, she thought exasperatedly. "Hm?" she responded, turning back to her essay and trying to make it clear that she was busy and didn't wish to be disturbed.

"Erm…I just finished my Charms essay, and well, you looked like you were having trouble, and… er, this book helped me out a lot, so I thought you might want to take a look at it…" his stuttering turned into mumbling and ended with him setting the book on her table and walking away before she could see the blush that had filled his cheeks. He went back to his area and began gathering his books, furious at himself for failing so badly.

Hermione curiously watched him walk away, and then flipped to the dog-eared page. Surprised, she found exactly the information she had been so laboriously searching for, as well as additional explanations that would enhance her essay greatly. Looking up, she saw Malfoy just about to leave. She quickly called out to him, and he stopped and turned back to her.

"Thanks. This really helps," she said, not wanting to seem rude.

Malfoy merely nodded awkwardly and left.

But inside, he was elated. Finally, he had broken through the wall of hostility that separated them. It was all downhill from here, he thought joyfully, and smiled.

- Short chappie to keep things moving. I love how tiny this event is but how huge it seems to Draco, so true for someone in love - d'aww! We're about halfway through but there's a lot of interesting twists to come, I promise! Stay tuned and, if you'd be so kind, drop me a review so I know what you guys think! Thanks again to all who have left me lovely reviews so far - glad you're liking it! ~Quill


	7. Rejection

**Chapter Seven: Rejection**

Hermione was bothered. He was being far too nice. Something was up.

Ever since the day he had snapped at her after Charms, Malfoy hadn't made a single rude statement to her. He was still antagonistic as ever to Harry and Ron, but he hadn't spared her a single "Mudblood" or even a "know-it-all" in at least a couple of weeks. Usually this would not be strange, except for the frequency with which she saw him now. And that was another thing that was beginning to concern her. What was he doing in her library lately? She couldn't help but wonder if he was trying to pull a Krum…

She shuddered. And just now, he had brought her a book. It really was helpful, and part of her was thankful. The other half wanted to throw up. Why was _Malfoy_ crushing on her?! She had never expressed the slightest interest in that Slytherin creep, even if he was attractive. _Wait, attractive?! _The unexpected confession disgusted her. But so what if she found Malfoy physically striking? There were more important things than looks, like brains and morals. Neither of which Malfoy possessed, clearly. Satisfied with her reasoning, she closed the matter. She _did not_ have feelings for him.

His interest in her disturbed her. She had never done anything to encourage him, that was for sure. Unsettled, she realized she needed to talk with somebody about it, preferably a guy. She wanted to know how she could get him to stop liking her without being rude, and needed a male perspective. She thought briefly about consulting Harry, but quickly realized there was no chance – he'd flip. This was Malfoy she was talking about. Either he would mock her to death, as if it were her fault Malfoy liked her, or he would get defensive of her and go off and start a fight. No, Harry was not an option. He would try to help, but in the end would just make things worse. Her mind flitted to Ron, whom she immediately eliminated; she still wasn't talking to him, and doubted she ever would again. A little upset, she realized there really wasn't any other guy she was comfortable talking to about things like this…

And then she remembered her mystery man. Surely he would understand. Quickly opening the book, she pulled out the response she had written this morning and added more underneath it.

_Oh, there's one other thing. There's this other guy in our year who's been acting strangely nice to me lately. I'm getting rather concerned…I think he likes me, but I don't feel the same way about him. I wanted to ask you for advice; since you're a guy, maybe you can give me some insight. How can I get him to understand that I don't fancy him, without hurting his feelings?_

By the next day his reply had appeared, as usual:

_I don't know. Figure something out; you're smart enough._

Hermione was shocked by the curt, offish answer. Usually her admirer had been eager to help her, friendly, and inviting. Now he was cold and uncooperative. He had not even bothered to address the first part of her note, in which she had asked his opinion on an intriguing aspect of the centaurs' astrology practices. She pondered for a moment. Why would he be so upset about her trying to reject another guy?

And then a thought struck her. Of course, he was _jealous_! He was her admirer after all; naturally he wouldn't want to hear about other guys chasing after her, even if she didn't like them back. He couldn't bear the idea of someone else having feelings for her. The thought made her glow inside; he wanted her all to himself. She sighed dreamily. He would make such a perfect lover!

Smiling to herself, she resolved not to mention the issue again. She would figure out the Malfoy problem on her own, somehow.

_Fine, just another challenge. On another note, I was wondering- when will I get to meet you in person? I am growing rather desperate to know who you are. Oh, and you also ignored my centaur question, love._

She thought this message would be enough to suggest that she only had feelings for him. Hopefully he would understand the implication and not just take it at face value.

His next message seemed more like his old self, if still reserved:

_You are presumptuous, Hermione, when you assume we shall meet in person at all. Are you jealous that I know your name while you don't know mine? The thought makes me smile; I know you hate being in the dark and that makes me love keeping this secret even more. How captivating it must be! Regardless, it will be a while yet before I am comfortable revealing my identity. Eventually, perhaps. Oh, and in response to your centaur question, I believe their planetary implications to be infinitely more accurate than our own Divination processes, if only out of sheer ambiguity…_

She groaned inwardly at his enjoyment of keeping her clueless. However, while he had denied the certainty of their meeting, he had not refused the idea completely. Though impatient, she could wait. He was worth it, she was sure. Continuing reading the rest of his note, she laughed out loud, receiving glares from others in the library. His sardonic comments on Divination were so like the condescension she expressed for the load of codswallop. Grinning, she scribbled a reply.

Now that they were back on good terms, there was only one more concern she needed to address, and that was _still_ how to reject Malfoy.

- There you are, chapter 7! Also, I forgot to mention - some of you have probably noticed anyway - but I've been swapping the perspective in each chapter from Hermione to Draco and vice versa. I think it works nicely. But it's not my opinion that matters - it's yours! Thoughts on this chapter? On the whole thing? Review! :) And either way, thanks for reading! ~Quill


	8. Mudblood

**Chapter Eight: Mudblood**

As it turned out, the Malfoy problem went away on his own. Despite his earlier confidence, Draco was now certain he had imagined any progress he had made. Everything from the way she looked at him to her body language when they were in the library at the same time suggested that she wanted nothing to do with him. He sighed wistfully. He had been so close.

And yet, try as he might, he couldn't get his mind off of Hermione Granger. He tried flirting with other girls, but found he was unable to talk to them without wishing they were her. They were superficial, possessing none of Hermione's deep intellect which he so admired. They wanted him for his looks, for his charm, for his money, for kissing and for... other such reasons. And while it was all very nice (and it was very nice), he wanted more than that. He wanted a girl to whom he could read a book, while she laid her head on his chest, enraptured. He wanted a girl who would consider a lengthy discussion or bantering wordplay romantic. He wanted a girl who was as beautiful inside as out. He wanted Hermione Granger, and that was that.

And so he refused to give up hope entirely. While he no longer approached her, no longer gazed longingly in her direction (when he could help himself), he still harbored a secret love for the witch who had stolen his heart.

This was his current situation as the class milled around outside the classroom, waiting for Transfiguration to start. He saw her there, talking with Harry, looking bright and optimistic as ever. Just around the corner, Ron and Lavender Brown were snogging. It was disgusting, really, that the Weasel could have had so much and thrown it away for _that_. He had lost all respect for the ginger when he caused Hermione so much pain by cheating on her. Not that he ever had any respect for him to begin with.

As the classroom doors opened, the class jostled around to get in, and Ron and Hermione were bumped into each other trying to get through the doors. His ears turning red in the trademark Weasley way, Ron hastily muttered an apology and stepped back to let her in first.

Wrong move. Already insecure about their relationship, Lavender burst into hysterics. "Why did you apologize to _her_, Ron! You said she didn't mean anything to you anymore! How could you? Do you not care about me? Or do you just care about that Mudblood more?"

Ron looked down and murmured something unintelligible.

"Don't call her a Mudblood? I'll call her whatever I want! And you will call her whatever I want as well, if you want to prove that you care about me more than her. Say it, Ronald! Call her a Mudblood and tell her you never loved her!" The girl was in tears now, appearing almost mad. Hermione just stood there with an expression of complete shock on her face, while Ron looked utterly overwhelmed. Draco pushed through the crowd, concerned for Hermione, even if he would never admit it to anyone. If that son of a bitch hurt her again…

Finally Ron looked up, bearing an expression similar to that of Mr. Weasley when he was forced into submission by his wife. "You never meant anything to me…" The next word was barely a whisper. "Mudblood."

_WHAM!_ Barely aware of what he was doing, Draco punched Ron as hard as he possibly could in the nose. All of a sudden he was filled with rage, furious that the wizard who had once had everything he ever wanted had thrown it all away and hurt her in the process. "Don't you dare call her a Mudblood, you worthless excuse for a wizard!" he shouted between punching every bit of Ron he could reach. The redheaded wizard at first seemed too astonished to respond, but finally started hitting Malfoy back to defend himself. All Draco knew was that he wanted to make him regret those words.

In some part of his mind he was aware of the blood pouring from Ron's nose, the shouts and screams of his classmates, the pain from where Ron was making contact. But none of it mattered. Lavender was shrieking and bawling hysterically in the corner, while Hermione was standing there, apparently stunned. Suddenly he was aware of many more hands on his robes, yanking him away.

"You don't deserve to exist in her presence," he spat angrily as Harry and three other Gryffindors pulled him off of Ron violently. Struggling violently, he found his wand and shot out a hex, only to receive five simultaneous, powerful curses in return from the surrounding Gryffindors. He blacked out instantly.

- _Wow, didn't know Ron had that in him. Will Draco survive? Ironic role-reversal much? What does our heroine think about all of this? ...these answers and more in our next episode :D - stick around folks! If you're feeling generous shoot me a review, those things make my day :). ~Quill_


	9. Goodbye

**Chapter Nine: Goodbye**

Hermione sat by his bedside, with tears in her eyes. He was covered in bruises from the other wizard's punches, and had bandages around his chest nursing the broken ribs that Madam Pomfrey was fetching a potion to fix. The school's Healer had worked quickly, concentrating intensely and saying little as she attended to the worst injuries, her concern obvious.

"Episkey," Hermione murmured again, pointing her wand over the bruise on his jaw. Madam Pomfrey had instructed her to care for the minor bruising while she fetched the potion, knowing Hermione to be competent in basic Healing. As the bruise faded away, she gently ran her fingers over the place the injury had been. He did not stir.

Her gaze drifted up to Ron's broken nose, the tears welling up again. She was still rather numb to what he had said to her. It didn't really matter, she decided; she didn't care for him anymore either. The insult hadn't really sunk in, it was like a dull knife that couldn't break the skin. Turning away from her old boyfriend, she looked back at the man for whom she was crying, and to whose wounds she currently tended, and laced her fingers between his.

_Oh, Draco_. How could she not have realized? He had liked her, and she had rejected him, on the basis of his shallowness and cruel nature. How wrong she was. True, in the old days this would have applied to him without second thought. But he had changed, and she hadn't even spared him a chance. She smiled sadly at the irony of the situation. In second year, it had been Ron who attempted to attack Malfoy for calling her a Mudblood, and Ron who came off worse when his faulty wand had backfired. This time, it was Malfoy, no, it was _Draco_ who had defended her, trying to fight off five others at once in her name. That was not shallow. That was the most honorable, most noble thing anyone had ever done for her. Draco must really care for her…

Madam Pomfrey returned with the potion, and tipped it down the unconscious Slytherin's throat. She noticed Hermione holding his hand, but said nothing. It was Hermione who broke the silence.

"He will be okay, won't he?" she pleaded, her eyes silently begging for reassurance.

The Healer paused, not wanting to give the girl false hope.

"He was hit with a remarkable Stinging Jinx, a Fernunculus Curse, two rather strong Stunning spells and a Body-Bind Curse simultaneously. Such an impact leaves limited prospect for recovery."

Hermione bit back tears. "No, he can't die like this. Please!"

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "I don't know, my dear. Right now we must wait to see if he recovers consciousness. It could take anywhere from a couple of hours to a couple of days." She left to attend to her other patient.

Hermione then let the tears fall unashamedly. She reached up and brushed a lock of that silky platinum blonde hair out of his face. His soft skin was unnaturally cold, but his usually pale cheeks were flushed. "Oh Draco, please don't leave me," she murmured, taking his hand in both of hers and lightly kissing his forehead. "Not after that."

She loved him now, she knew. But could he ever forgive her for turning him down? She had been so cold towards him in his early advances. She remembered the time he had given her a book in the library. It was such a simple gesture, so sweet and chaste. The way he had stuttered and rushed away now seemed endearing. And all she had done was thank him. She could have called him back invitingly and started a conversation, or, to hell with it, she could have kissed him right there. But instead she had watched him leave.

She wanted to stay with him until he woke, but Madam Pomfrey wouldn't have it. She let Hermione visit for an hour each day, but after that she forced her down to the Great Hall for dinner, and refused to allow her to skip classes.

It was several days before he finally regained consciousness – several long, painfully anxious days - but he did wake. And suddenly, Hermione was unsure of how to act. She was terrified that he would be angry with her, for those senseless reasons that nervous speculation so willingly provides. He, too, seemed to be uncertain around her, unaware of her reaction to his outburst. She knew that it was her move, that all she had to do was repeat what she had murmured to his unconscious form in the hospital wing. And yet she couldn't bring herself to do it. She knew it was weak, but she couldn't bear the thought of him rejecting her the same way she had rejected him.

None of this made any sense, of course, seeing as by attacking Ron, Malfoy had essentially proclaimed his undying love for her. But in the mind of a love-struck girl, nothing does make sense, and so she remained nervous and insecure, not knowing how to proceed.

Finally, one thing occurred to her. She had not read her mystery man's messages in nearly a week. She did not plan to continue their exchange, now that she had fallen for Malfoy. Though she was still curious as to his identity, her affections had shifted so dramatically, and she didn't wish to lead her admirer on in vain. So she went to the library and scribbled one last note, explaining apologetically and saying one last goodbye.

* * *

- So I learned how to make these lines ^, wish I had seen that earlier lol. But anyways, thanks so much for all the super encouraging reviews guys :D! Here's another chappie, look at me being nice and posting it soon so you don't have to hang on the cliffie from last chap for a week :). Although I did deliberately choose the title to kind of freak you out, heheh. What do you all think about Hermione's change of heart? ~Quill


	10. Another

**Chapter Ten: Another**

Draco clung to a single strand of hope. He had done everything he could. Now all he awaited was Hermione's approval, some sign that by some twist of fate she had come to love him as much as he longed for her. He could tell that she had warmed up to him considerably, that much was obvious by the way she blushed whenever he was near. But she did not give him the slightest indication that she appreciated his standing up for her. (If only he had been awake in the hospital wing!) He wanted to be with her, more desperately than ever before, now that he had openly admitted his feelings. And yet, she had rejected him earlier. What if she rejected him now? He couldn't stand the thought.

And so he returned to the library, that night like so many nights before. He snuck out of bed just after midnight and made his way to her table. The book was still there. Hesitantly, hands trembling, he opened it to page 947. She had added something to their note.

_I'm so sorry. I can't write to you anymore. I want to thank you. You picked me up from my lowest low, and talking with you was more enjoyable than anything I've experienced for a long time. I truly believe that I loved you. But now there is someone real in my life, and I'm sorry but I can't wait any longer to tell him how I feel. It wouldn't be fair for me to lead you on any longer. You don't deserve this, and I hate myself for saying goodbye. But I have to. I hope you can understand. Love, Hermione._

She had signed it with a certain finality that left Draco with no doubt that she would never open the book again, regardless of whether he replied. Draco's eyes filled with tears. So that was it. He had blown his chance. She was in love with someone else, despite all his efforts.

Sighing, he pulled the note out of the book and put the book away on its shelf. He slipped the note into his pocket. At least he would have it for the memories, he thought sorrowfully.

Walking back to the Slytherin common room, he reflected back on the messages they exchanged over the past several weeks. She had really loved him, he knew, on paper at least. And yet then she had confessed to him that she wanted to reject him in person. That was a blow. But he worked steadily to regain her confidence, and he thought that in the end it had been progressing well. Then he had made his valiant stand for her, and he thought that maybe, just maybe she would fall in love with him in person. He had thought she might have even liked him, too, even if she was too shy to say so. But there was another.

Reaching the dungeons, he abruptly stopped. He had tried so hard. He couldn't give up on her now. No, there was one more thing he had to try. But she wasn't reading their messages anymore… Desperate needs call for desperate measures. He sprinted up numerous flights of stairs, sweating and panting by the time he reached the Owlery. The words drifted through his head: _I can't wait any longer to tell him how I feel._ He hurriedly pulled a quill, ink and parchment from his bag. He had to get this to her fast.

_Dearest Hermione,_

_I am terribly sorry to hear that you won't be exchanging notes with me anymore. Using your words, it has indeed been more enjoyable than anything I've experienced in a long time. I will miss you greatly._

_I must ask one thing before you leave however. If the messages we wrote ever meant anything to you, do me the honor of meeting me in person just one time, as you once requested. I understand that you no longer love me, difficult as it is for me to bear. But I wish for you to know my identity at last before we part. I shall await you by the lake, underneath the oak tree, at seven o'clock this evening._

_I am and shall forever be,_

_Yours._

He summoned a rose from the garden below the Owlery window and tied both flower and parchment to the leg of a fast-looking Barn Owl.

"Bring this to Hermione, quick as you can, okay?" he muttered in the creature's tufted ear before tossing it lightly into the wind and watching it speed away.

* * *

- Sorry for the wait everybody! Hope you all had wonderful thanksgiving breaks. :) Things are wrapping up with this fic, just two chapters to go. So now we know who the mystery man is, but Hermione and Draco have yet to figure it all out... What do you guys think? I was trying not to make it too obvious that Draco was the secret admirer...but then again in a fic like this who else would it be? Reviews are super appreciated; I wanna know if you guys are liking how it's all falling together! ~Quill


	11. Post Script

**Chapter Eleven: Post Script**

The owl found Hermione in the Gryffindor common room during her break. She was thankful it came then, for she was alone, and had anybody seen the owl arrive with a rose for her, she would have never heard the end of it. Her heart fluttered at the sight, bringing a blush to her cheeks and quickening her pulse. She knew it was from one of two people, the question was which…

She admired the rose briefly before eagerly taking the scroll. With trembling hands, she unrolled it and read the message. Oh, how it toyed with her heart! After finally deciding which man she loved, the one whom she rejected made a final stab at winning her over, and came perilously close. It was only after she relived Draco's fight with Ron in her mind that she knew she had made the correct decision. But what to do about the letter…?

She put the rose aside and re-read the note, considering his proposition. He understood that she no longer loved him, it said. He simply wished to reveal his identity. Weighing the options in her mind, she finally decided to meet him. What harm could it do just to find out who he was? She had already explained that she loved another, so there should be no issue. She nodded to herself as she came to her conclusion. She would meet him, if only to satiate her curiosity.

Seven o'clock could not come soon enough, and yet suddenly it had come far too soon. Hermione found herself wandering through the castle, taking longer routes to delay the meeting. What would she say? How could she leave him? And most importantly, who could it be? Finally, she reached the Entrance Hall. There was no point in turning back now. She opened the doors and strolled out onto the grounds, trying to exude a confident air while walking at a comfortable pace, not too fast where she seemed eager and not too slow where she seemed reluctant. Finally the lake, and then the oak tree came within sight.

There was nobody there. A little worriedly, Hermione continued approaching the tree. Had his nerves gotten the better of him? Had he decided not to show? Or was she too late, and had he already left? A small crease formed in her brow as she walked all the way up to the tree and touched the bark tentatively.

"Hello?"she called out softly, feeling a tad foolish. "Is anybody there?"

A figure slowly stepped out from behind the tree, holding a red rose identical to the one with the letter. "You came," he murmured.

"Draco?" Hermione questioned, a blush already rising in her cheeks. "What are you doing here?"

"Exactly what I said I'd be doing." He hesitated briefly, and then tentatively moved closer, gently tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. His grey-blue eyes met her warm brown ones. "Awaiting you."

All of a sudden, everything clicked into place, and an instant later all of her doubts faded away. Her mystery man was Draco Malfoy. Her admirer was none other than the man who had stolen her heart with his valiance. The man to whom she was physically and emotionally attracted was the same who challenged her intellect so brilliantly. All uncertainty melted at the touch of his soft fingers on her cheek and the deep, comforting sound of his voice. Her heart belonged to him.

And for once listening to her heart instead of her overly-analytical mind, she reached her arms around his neck, stretched up and kissed him.

* * *

_- Tahdah! Draco is such a hopeless romantic. c: Did you guys get the title?...post script...after writing. But also the abbreviation P.S., at the end of a letter. It seemed fitting. :) One more chapter of figuring it all out (from Draco's perspective) to go! :D Reviews are love! ~Quill_


	12. No More Words

**Chapter Twelve: No More Words**

The first thing he felt when she kissed him was shock. Then all else faded away and all he knew was the blissful warmth that spread over his body as he felt her soft lips upon his own. He wrapped his arms around her, one behind her back and the other in her gorgeous golden hair, and returned the kiss, still gently, but in a way that expressed all the passion he ever felt for her. They held the kiss for several moments - or was it several hours? - before Draco unwillingly pulled away.

"I'm sorry," he breathed. "I didn't mean for that to happen." He looked down, closing his eyes. This was not what he intended; it was so much better. But he had already decided, he would respect whatever decision she made. She needed to know that. Even more than wanting her, he wanted her to be happy. And if someone else made her happier than he could, then… then so be it. He loved her enough to let her go. "I- I understand that you've already chosen," he said softly, looking back up at her sincerely, though his gaze was tinged with regret. "That you don't love me."

"But I do," Hermione whispered, her eyes meeting his openly. "I do love you, Draco."

He stared back into her warm eyes, entranced, and every ounce of him wanted to believe it was true. With great effort, he forced himself to speak. "But… your message. You said you were leaving me. That you found somebody else."

Hermione laughed, and the sound was so beautiful his head felt light. "Don't you get it? I always loved you. You – the real you - were my somebody else."

Suddenly things began to make sense. "So you dumped me…for me?" he asked, a rather stupid grin starting to spread on his face.

Hermione smiled back. "Yes. I fell in love with you twice, on paper and in person," she explained, laughter lighting up her eyes.

The blonde let out a low whistle. "Damn, I'm good."

She chuckled and shook her head, raising her arms to circle around his neck again. "Yes you are, but don't go getting a big head. You're supposed to be _my_ admirer, after all."

Draco couldn't stop himself from smiling at her audacity. "Well, that's only because you're so much like me: incredibly attractive, decent brains, a good sense of humor…" As he spoke he wrapped his arms around the girl of his dreams, hardly daring to believe that he was not, in fact, dreaming.

Hermione grinned, not missing the compliments buried in those seemingly conceited statements.

"…and an amazing kisser to boot," Draco finished, catching her off-guard.

Flattered, Hermione was quick to recover her wits. "You can say that again," she breathed, looking up into his eyes and wanting nothing more in the world at that moment than to be with him forever.

Draco once again met her lips with his, this time sweeping her off her feet and knowing that despite what Hermione had said, there was no longer any need for words.

* * *

- _So there's our happy ending! :') So sad this fic is over, I had a lot of fun with it. Hope you all enjoyed reading and thanks for sticking around! ~__**Quill**_


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